The University Morphing Club
by aizxana
Summary: What if morphing became a popular sport? Two first year university students decide to join the university morphing club to see what all the fuss is about. Can they handle the rush, or will they get so caught in it all that they forget to go to lectures?
1. Chapter 1: Fresher's Week

**The University Morphing Club**

"Alex! Over here!"

I strained my head above the level of the crowd, trying with immense difficulty to locate the source of my friend's voice. I wasn't even sure if it had been René who was even calling me. There might be a hundred Alex's in this room. The level of noise in this place was atrocious. People were shouting, chatting loudly and laughing madly. I passed a couple of girls in pink cheerleading outfits giggling like some kind of fluffy, mutant pig. They were handing out flyers to equally fluffy passers by, calling every girl within earshot 'darling' or 'babe.' Good grief. I could barely hear myself think.

"By the stand with the purple flag!"

René 's powerful voice cut again through the racket of the mob; at last I was sure where she was. I pushed and shoved my way through the herds, finally coming to within earshot of her.

"Sheesh, it's so hot in here," she complained, struggling to take off her jacket among the tidal wave of students thrusting against her. "They really should have a limit as to how many people can come in at a time." She gave up on the jacket, and took a handful of leaflets from her pocket. "Sorry I lost you back there. You get anything good?"

"A few bits and pieces. 'Spect I'll join the drama club," I said. "Maybe try out for the rugby team. You?"

"Gonna go for the karate club," René said. "Been training for a few years now, really want to go for my Black belt before I'm old and rusty. Although I might give it a little practise right now and kick the butt of this guy behind me who seems to think that staring at a gal's chest during a conversation about gradings is a acceptable thing to do."

I didn't doubt this. As well as being built like a tank, René had the attitude of a bull during mating season. She was sexy and attractive, but just a little bit scary at times.

"Want to head back to halls then?" I asked her, eager to get out into the fresh air, where I might stand a chance of being able to breath again.

"In a sec," she said with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "There's just one more stall I have to visit first."

Anyone who has ever been a university student will understand the full horrors that make up the annual Fresher's Fayre. A thousand and one first year collage students, out of the confines of home life for the first time, packed into a room smaller than a football field is not going to be a comfortable experience for anyone. Add to that a couple of dozen stands and tables, with people standing on them throwing out pens, slinky springs and sweets, businesses with large, brightly coloured posters advertising the names of their clubs and bars in the local area (often handing out free shots of vodka), and you'll have something vaguely resembling a pack of lions at feeding time. The Fresher's Fayre is effectively an event run by the university, in the first week of term, for new students to sign up to a range of sports and social clubs. Local entrepreneurs, particularly of the beverage-based variety, also set up stalls and target young, inexperienced boozers. It is generally held in a large room, like the gymnasium in which I was currently being mercilessly crushed to death, where the committees of these clubs can set up stalls and stands for potential new members to visit. Students can then come and browse the different stands, taking up new interests or continuing existing ones, chat to the third-years who ran them, and hand out large chunks of their student loans in the form of membership payments. Whilst the theory of this event is to host a mature, organised exhibition, the reality is far different.

There were stands on just about every sport known to man, from the high-adrenaline 'extreme' sports such as snowboarding or surfing, to the 'it's a sport - honest!' ones like golf and chess. Or you could join a non-sport-based society, such as the aptly-named 'wine taster's society' (yeah, right) or the slightly more obscure armpit-sniffer's society (takes place in the men's changing rooms). Whatever your age, race or gender, there was a sport or society for you - and the organisers of these clubs made sure you knew that. Everywhere you looked, there was some random guy or crazy bird thrusting a flyer or leaflet into your face.

"Hill walking club, dude?"

"Pot holing, mate?"

"Netball? Ooh, silly me, you're a bloke! This is gal's only!"

And similar remarks. By the time I had moved three feet towards René , I had already been forcibly handed about a dozen leaflets. I glanced down at a few of them, but dropped the majority on the floor, to be trodden on with a thousand other discarded advertisements.

I had been told, upon starting university, that if you wanted to try out for one of the popular sports, like football or basketball, you had to get there earlier or you'd never make it to the sign-up queue, due to the sheer number of students who wanted to join. This was true, and it had taken the best part of twenty minutes to even get hold of a pen and registration form for the rugby club. However, as René dragged my through the throngs, I noticed that there was a great deal of excitement around the stand of the sport that René was attempting to fight her way over to.

"My cousin did this in her first year, and she's been making me green with jealousy ever since," René announced, as we finally made our way to the front of the queue. "The university morphing club. Oh, man, I have to try it!"

I blinked at her, slightly confused. "Morphing? That changing into animals thing? The public can do it now?" I stared up at the posters on the temporary wall of the stand, which depicted smiling students halfway through various freaky transformations.

"Course!" she cried. "Clubs are opening up all over the country now they've finally got the legalities sorted! It's not just for the military now, you know. You ever seen anyone do it?"

"Might have seen it once or twice on TV," I said. "Looks a bit gross to me."

"Hell no!" she said. "It's mega to watch, and according to my cousin, even better to actually do!"

She grabbed a pen and sign-up form, and began scribbling her details, muttering curses as kids bashed and pushed against her.

"You interested, mate?" one of the club committee members asked me. He was standing on the other side of the stand, ready to pass me a sign up form. There were another two or three members standing behind the stall, all wearing matching black tee-shirts with the name of their club and rude nicknames printed across the chest.

"Course he is, Vompire!" cried a perky blonde girl, who was also part of the committee. She slapped him playfully on the back then turned to me.

"I tell you hun, once you've been a cat, there's no going back! Look at this - we got some videos of us on the last meeting of last year."

She laughed hysterically and passed me an MP4 player.

"This is me, morphing a kitty," she said. "Don't watch my face, I look dreadful from that angle."

I watched in horror and fascination as the girl on the screen shape-shifted into a cat before my very eyes. I don't know about her face looking dreadful, but it was certainly disturbing.

"Pretty cool, huh?" she giggled. "This is Tom, here, morphing a dog."

"As you do…" I muttered in slight disbelief.

The video switched scenes, and I watch the guy she'd called Vompire swaggering about laughing as his face stretched out into the muzzle of a black Labrador.

"Whoa," I said. "That's weird."

"He was drunk when he did that," the girl added. "It look about ten minutes just to get a tail."

I'd seen professionals morph on various TV shows and documentaries on the war against the Yeerks over the last few years, but this was the first time I'd seen someone I recognised do it themselves. Now I could have the chance to do it? I had no idea what to think. It was one of those sports which, like skydiving, everyone wanted to try, but no one actually had the guts to go out and try. The thought of being another animal filled me with excitement, but it also filled me with dread. There were so many things that could go wrong - I'd seen plenty of articles in the newspaper about under trained soldiers in the army being stuck as worms or roaches or whatever, and their families attempting to sue the heck out of the MoD for making them use the technology. Or, even worse, those idiots who took part in illegal 'extreme morphing' - throwing themselves out of planes or off cliffs in the hope of morphing a bird before they fell smack into the ground.

René looked up from filling in her form, appearing to read my mind.

"What are you waiting for?" she asked. "You're doing this too, you know."

"Am I? Since when did I loose the right to make my own decisions?"

"I'm not doing this by myself," she asserted. "Besides, you'll love it. It's awesome, insane and very, very cool."

How did I become friends with this girl?

"You've always wanted to fly, right? Who hasn't? Or maybe you'd prefer something like a gorilla. You look like you could do with a bit of muscle on you."

"Alright!" I said, scribbling my name and address on the form. "I'll join, just to shut you up."

"Anyway," she continued, barely taking a breath, "uni's about trying stuff you've never done before! Once you get into the world of work, you probably won't get another chance, unless you get one of those fancy corporate jobs which pay graduates six figures and offer morphing weekends as training schemes. Let me know if you find one of those," she added.

"I already said I'll do it, didn't I?" I said, handing my form to the guy in charge. "What goes on now? I asked him.

"There's a welcome meeting for all new members next Tuesdays in the lecture hall next to the library," he said. "You know where the library is yet?"

I shook my head and he passed me a map, with 'lecture hall C' circled in red marker.

"Well, you will by your third year, believe me. Anyway, the meeting will tell you all you need to know about the club. Morphing, training weekends, costs, all that stuff. Members will probably want to show off some of the morphs they acquired over the summer as well. My mate Scott got a polar bear, lucky beggar."

"Cool," I said. "I've never morphed before - I don't even have the technology. Is that ok?"

"Sure - most people come along having never done it before. That's why we do training days. You go along, learn the theory, get the power and morph a few basic animals. Once you show the instructors you can do it well and take control of the animal, you get your licence. Sorted - morph anywhere. Lucy'll explain it all in more detail at the welcome meeting though. She's the mad one who thinks she can run the club."

The perky blonde girl twirled round at the sound of her names. "Yeah - make sure you come, it's gonna be mega fun!"

"Oh don't worry, we will!" René laughed. She took one of the information booklets Lucy was handing out, and passed one to me. "You're name's on the list now," she said in a mock sinister voice. "No turning back!"

"Yeah, well, if we could get back to halls now? I think I'll be boiled alive if I stay here any longer."


	2. Chapter 2: Reactions

**Chapter Two**

We left the madness of the Fresher's Fayre and got the bus back to our halls of residence. I dumped my coat and bag in my room and met René in the common room. There were a couple of other students hanging about, some of whom I knew, some of whom I had yet to meet, some of whom I may have met during a late night drinking session and no longer remembered. But we had all attended the brawl of the Fresher's Fayre at some point in the day, and the conversation quickly turned to the clubs we had joined.

"Oh my god, are you two mental?" squealed a posh, high-pitched voice. "You joined the _morphing _club? Are you crazy?"

One of my new flatmates I did remember was Penny. A girl who did not seem to understand the meaning of the verb 'to play'. I had first met her at 6am on my second day of moving in. I had just returned from a night of playful frivolity in the union bar, and Penny had just woken up after a full night's sleep. Whilst she had happily (and soberly) poured me a bowl of organic musli, I had quietly thrown up in the kitchen sink.

Penny was now sitting at the piano, trying to recite a composition. "Alex, have you any idea how dangerous that is? Or how much it costs?" she muttered."

"Not as much as most people think," said René, picking up the TV listings.

"How much _does _it cost?" I asked no one, pulling out my own leaflet and staring at the costs. "Hell's teeth, three hundred quid!"

"How much?" gasped Penny. "You could buy food to last for a year on that!"

"You get a good discount with the club," René said defensively. "Besides, I figured that if you're going to be in debt by the time you finish your course, you might as well squander your dosh on something you enjoy."

"Yes, but can't you take up a nice hobby?" Penny continued. "Like ballet? Or learning to play an instrument?"

René rolled her eyes and threw the morphing club leaflet at her. It hit her on the back of her head, and Beethoven's Second stopped in mid note. She picked the leaflet up and started skimming through it, shaking her head in disbelief.

"You're just like my mother," René said to her, flopping back on the greying, worn-out sofa. "Why are you so against it?"

"You realise how many ways you can get killed in this?" she said, looking René in the eye. "My uncle was in the army and a lot of his regiment used the technology. He told me he'd seen people trapped in morph, or unable to control the animals' instincts, or getting shot and not being able to demorph in time. My mummy told me that if I ever did it, she'd disown me."

"You're uncle has filled your mummy's head with biased and partial information," René said audaciously. "It's a perfectly safe sport, and the instructors know exactly what they're doing. Join it, and you'll see."

"There's no way I'm going to join such a frightful organisation," Penny said, her nose in the air. She flicked her long blonde hair over her shoulders and turned her minute frame back to the piano.

"Well, tell me that again when you watch me soaring the thermals at a thousand feet," René huffed, springing to her feet. "I'm going to have a shower, I hope to God no one's used up all my shampoo."

She left the common room and Penny went back to her practice. I gave her a slightly apologetic smile then wandered into the little kitchen and began to make myself a sandwich. Although this hall is self catered, our kitchen is tiny, and it's supposed to accommodate sixteen people. Same story with the rest of the block. Small rooms, ancient furniture and fittings, shared bathroom in which the locks don't work. Plus, I came from a fairly well-off family, which meant of course, that I was offered no grants and thus could only afford the cheapest rooms. Ah well, I guess that's the life of a student.

"You joined the morphing club then, mate?" I heard a voice behind me. John, a guy whose room was a few doors down from mine, was staring at his little shelf in the refrigerator, on which sat a single slice of bread, and, curiously, a box of mince pies. He took the slice of bread and began nibbling on it.

"Yeah," I said, offering him some butter and marmite, which he refused. "René dragged me into it. Looks good , but I wouldn't have had the guts to do it if she wasn't there."

"She's a bit mad, that one, isn't she?" John grinned. "Hot, though. If you don't have your eye on her, I might get drunk and ask her out."

I laughed and poured myself a glass of orange juice - a habit I've tried to keep up to try and avoid the inevitable Fresher's flu. "I'm trying to get to know everyone a bit better first," I said. "But yeah, she is a bit insane. I dread to think what her first morph is going to be. Probably a lion if she could manage it. Or an ox."

"You ever morphed before? I'd love to do it, but I en't got the cash."

"No, never morphed, I'm a complete newbie. But I guess in regards to money, it's gonna cost about ten times as much if you're not a student, so I might as well bite the bullet and do it while I've got the chance."

"That's what students loans are there for, right?" he smiled. "Expect mine's going on Snakey B."

I raised my eyebrows briefly in humorous acknowledgement. Even if you are pinching the last pennies from your best mate's pocket, it is an unwritten rule that all new students spend the first week of university life drinking as much alcohol as is technically possible. Snake Bite - an almost lethal concoction of beer, spirits and berry juice - is useful and inexpensive aide in achieving this drunken state.

"Yeah, well, after last night I'm never touching alcohol again," I said. "From now on, I'm going to spend my free time engaged in fun, challenging and physically stimulating sports."

"So drinking?"

"Morphing, you muppet! This idea of Renés' has given me the horn. I admit I was pretty much against it earlier, but after seeing some of those videos of third-years, I can't stop thinking how much I want to try it."

"Hmm, well, if I ever give up my Friday night parties, I might give a go. I'm not really into sports all that much. Unless you count tonsil-tennis."

I rolled my eyes and went back to my sandwich.

"What are you going to morph?" he continued. "I saw some chick do a swan on TV once, that was amazing."

"I don't know, I think you have to do some training day with fully qualified instructors, so maybe they choose your first morph for you. But I'd love to do a bird. Flying must be great."

"Aw, yeah, a bird would be good," John said wistfully. "Fly out right in the middle of those lectures. God knows how I'm gonna cope with twenty hours of statistics a week. I'm dreading it."

"Yeah." I wondered briefly why John had decided to come to university if he couldn't stand his course. "Well, we've got this welcome meeting thing on Tuesday to find out what it's all about. I'll let you know if I can acquire an elephant and tear the maths building down for you."


	3. Chapter 3: The Welcome Meeting

**Chapter 3**

I met Rene by the library on Tuesday evening. I would have taken the bus with her from halls, but my timetable had presented me with a late lecture on Tuesday afternoons, and I was forced to go straight from class.

"Hey!" she called, jumping off the bus.

"You're late," I said, jokily. "You owe me a cookie later."

"Still haven't worked out these bus routes," she said, which was obviously the closest I'd get to any kind of apology. "How was your class, by the way? What are you studying?"

"Physiotherapy," I replied, leading the way to the hall where the meeting was being held. "And yeah, it was alright. Didn't really do much, as it was only the second lecture of term. Just went through the plan for the semester and all that. I spent most of the time deciding what morph to go for when I've done the training day."

"Me too!" Rene exclaimed. "All week I've been trying to decide whether to go for a mountain lion or a wildcat."

"Aren't they the same thing?" I asked, confused. "Anyway, where are you going to acquire one of them? Last time I checked, they didn't have mountain lions in Coventry."

She shrugged, pushing open the door to the main building. "Zoo maybe?"

"Right. So you're just going to walk into the cages and ask if you can acquire it, are you?"

"Oh, shut up," she teased. "Don't be so sarky."

"I'm not being sarcastic, I'm being logical!" I grinned back. Rene could be such a hot-head at times.

After about ten minutes of fun getting lost in the corridors of the main building, we finally located the correct room. The hall was filled with about a hundred students, mostly Freshers but a few oldies, milling about drinking beer and chatting to one another. There were a bunch of students at the front of the hall, all wearing the same black polo shirts that I'd seen at the fayre earlier. Other people wore shirts of a similar design, but in blue. I guess the colours distinguished between normal members and committee members. Some people were wearing what looked like leotards or swimming costumes under their tee-shirts.

"Alex, hi!" I felt a tap on my shoulder and spun round. A girl with dark hair who I recognised from my course had greeted me, standing with a couple of people I hadn't met.

"Hi, err…" I trailed off, embarrassed to have forgotten her name already.

"Chloe!" she said, laughing. "Don't worry, I forget names all the time! Are you here for the morphing?"

"Yeah, I am," I replied. "This is my flatmate Rene, by the way."

"Hey, Rene," Chloe smiled, then mentioned to the others. "This is my mate Julia. She's in some of our seminar groups. And Sebastian, who's in the same halls as me."

The four of us sat down and waited for the meeting to begin. The hall was your typical lecture theatre, with the tutor's desk and an OHP at the front of the room, and rows of chairs with little fold-out tables filling the rest of the room. The chairs were at different heights, with those at the back higher than the ones at the front, like in a cinema. We sat about four rows up, giving ourselves a good view but so that we were still close enough to hear clearly.

"Can you already morph?" Chloe asked Rene and I.

"Nope," I said. "You?"

"Yeah! I've been able to morph my whole life, actually!"

"Your whole life?" said Julia. "How is that possible?"

"My mum got the morphing technology when she was pregnant with me," Chloe grinned. "Before the new laws about pregnancy tests were introduced. The technology passed to me before I was born!"

"I didn't even know that was possible," Julia said.

"Oh, it's possible alright. It's just it's illegal now, but even before it was, it was really uncommon. Not many people had the morphing power twenty years ago, and the women who did have it were just scared to do it, incase it harmed the baby. But here I am, all safe and well, and with about fifty animals to my name!"

"Fifty? Cool. What's your favourite morph?" asked Sebastian.

"It would have to be my hawk morph," she said. "I've got a really cool one, called a Harris hawk. You've _got _to morph a hawk, it's like nothing you've ever done before."

I nodded in agreement. "That's my first choice morph as well," I said. "What's it like actually changing into the animals?"

"Well, I'm probably not the best person to ask, as I've been doing it since I would walk! But it's a bit creepy. Very creepy, I suppose. The worst bit is where you get the animals' mind in with your own."

I would have asked more, but I assumed I would hear plenty more about it in the run up to the training day, and hopefully get the chance to try it out myself sometime soon. Just then, the noise and chattering of the room died down as people took their seats, and the bubbly blonde girl I recognised from the fayre stood up in front of the crowd.

"Hey, everyone!" she said. "Welcome to Westwood University Morphing Club! My name's Lucy Prichard, and I'm the president."

She gave a little twirl, standing with her back to us to allow everyone to read her nickname.

"_El Presidante_!" she laughed. "So you'll all know who I am if you see me in the streets. Anyway, I guess you've all showed up cos you want to start turning into animals, right? I hope so, because it's absolutely awesome!"

She paused for breath, and took a sip of water.

"Anyway, I'll just quickly run through what's going on tonight, then I'll introduce you to the committee. But first, can I just have a show of hands - who's already got the morphing technology and has a licence?"

Around a quarter of the crowd, including Chloe, raised their hands.

"That's cool," continued Lucy. "So most people are new to this right? That's fine. I'll start off by talking about the club itself, who we are, what we do, all that sort of stuff. What you get out from being a member of the club. After that, there'll be a bit about the training weekends for anyone who wants to learn to morph. Everyone has to do a day's training with qualified instructors before they do their first morph. Then they'll be a bit about what we do once we have the technology, and later a boring lecture from Jane about costs. Then have a break and we'll put a video to get you all into the mood and make you all the more likely to want to join. And at the end, some of our members are going to show you a morph sequence they've been learning for competition."

"I've heard about those competitions," Rene said. "People who are really good at morphing-"

"Estreens," interrupted Chloe.

"Yeah, them," continued Rene, "do these really cool morphs to music! I think you can do it in pairs or teams, and the idea of it is to make it look as natural and as beautiful as possible."

"How is turning into an animal _natural_?" asked Julia.

But no one answered, as Lucy had carried on speaking.

"So. We're a morphing club. What do we do? We morph! We turn into animals and get other people like most of you guys to do it to! We set up the club about three years ago, just after the government made the technology available to civilians. Of course, it was a really small club then, compared to what it is now. We've now got over a hundred active members from the university, and hopefully we'll be getting more tonight! Most people who join us are new to the sport, but we get some old hands too, so whatever your level, they'll be something for you."

She grinned at us, the mentioned to the other committee members, who were standing at the front too.

"So, the guys who'll be taking care of you! We've got Peter; in charge of arranging training weekends and events, Tom; who gets us access to the animals, Danni; our mad social secretary, Jane; the treasurer, Simon; who isin charge of teams and competitions, and Nick who is vice president. We've all been morphing a year or more, and we know loads of stuff about the training, and the licences and actually morphing itself, so if you've got any questions, just come and speak to one of us after the meeting."

"That Nick guy is cute," I heard Chloe whisper to Julia. Sebastian rolled his eyes.

"She's going to be gazing at him now and taking no notice of the rest of the meeting," he muttered to me.

"So, what do you get out of becoming a member?" Lucy continued. "Well, as we'll be covering later, membership is just thirty pounds - which is a fiver less than last year - and for that you get the training weekends at a totally discounted price, and free Tuesday night morphing sprees once you've qualified to morph solo! Also insurance and membership to the National Morphing Association, which anyone who wants to morph legally has to join. We also provide trips away at weekends for discounted prices to the countryside or the coast for different morphing experiences, and can provide minibuses for anyone who wants to run their own trips during the week. We also run a morphing-based holiday in the Easter holidays, last year we went to Spain and did eagles and horses, this year we're going even further and hoping to the Red Sea!"

This got a rise out of everyone. "That should be incredible," I said to Rene. "Morphing dolphins or fish out there, getting to see all the wildlife! It's a mega-good place for scuba-divers, so it must be even better to morph there!"

"In addition to all this, we have also arranged a deal with Falcon Clothing Limited," Lucy was saying. "They're a clothes shop in the city centre who sell morphing outfits, and if you show your membership card, you get a twenty-percent discount. For anyone who doesn't know, most people can only wear skin-tight clothes for morphing, because things like jeans, coats or shoes don't work. You _can _just wear leotards or cycling shorts and stuff, but most people prefer a proper outfit, and they are so much cooler looking as well. I have a lime-green one at home, it's wicked!"

"Lime green?" said Chloe. "Good grief."


	4. Chapter 4: What We Do

**Chapter 4**

"Ok, Peter's going to say some stuff about the training weekends now, as he's the best guy for the job."

Lucy stepped back and a tall, dark haired third year took her place.

"Hey, guys," he said. "Ok, training weekends. As you might know, it's the law in this country for all potential morphers to go through an intensive training course before they are qualified to go solo. That's the same for everyone - military and civilians, animal experts or Joe Public, and it happens the same way all over the world. Which is great, because once you've got your licence, you can morph anywhere - here in England, or Australia, France, anywhere. Of course, they don't just let anyone morph. I expect everyone here will be able to do it, but they might check that you don't have any serious criminal convictions or anything like that. Also, you have to be in good health, because they're still not sure what the effects on people with illnesses are. It is alien, after all. There was a case in the courts a few years ago about doctors in some hospital in America just giving the morphing technology illegally to patients to make them well again, but one woman's symptoms became even worse. She went public, there was a lot of throwing around of lawsuits, and eventually the doctors were sacked and yet another law was passed."

"Sounds mad to me," I said. "Like people still don't know what this technology entails."

"That's why it's so dangerous," Julia murmured. "I'm still not a hundred percent sure I want to do it."

Peter continued talking. "Anyway, back to the training weekends. It's basically a day of lessons teaching you the theory of morphing. How to morph, what it's like, how to control the animal's instincts, how to communicate in morph, all the rules and safety procedures. Morphing is often viewed as one of the most dangerous sports you can do, but it's actually one of the safest - very few other sports have such extreme safety measures and insurances in place. Nothing can go wrong - as long as people stick to the rules. Wherever you read about an accident that is the result of morphing, that's only because the idiot didn't follow the rules."

"Bet that Berenson dude didn't have all these licensing rules and stuff," Sebastian whispered. Jake Berenson was one of the world's very first morphers, famous, of course, as the leader of the resistance of the Yeerk invasion of Earth.

"The training weekend will generally take place over two days. The first day - Saturday - will be for the lessons and will include a short test at the end."

This got a groan out of everyone.

"Don't worry!" Peter laughed. "It's just a half-hour multiple-choice thing. Not like these tortuous uni exams. Anyway, the Sunday will be the day you actually get the morphing technology and acquire your first morph. Then, in a one-on-one tuition with an instructor, you will carry out your very first morph - something I bet you're all dying to do! When you've done one good, full morph, you go off into groups and practise. Make sure you can control the animal, learn to thought speak, demorph properly and all that. I think you have to do at least three different animals successfully, including an insect or a fish before you pass and get your license. Anyone got any questions?"

A girl in the front row spoke up.

"What is your first morph? Do they choose it for you?"

"It's usually something basic, like a cat or a dog," Peter replied. "I think they also do horses, flies, and a few other things for the learners as well."

"Where does all this take place?" another guy asked.

"There's a zoo about forty minutes from here which does morphing courses. We've been using it for about two years now, and it's really good. A lot of the instructors are ex-army or zoo-keepers or vets, and they really know their stuff. They're a good laugh, too, so it should be a fun weekend."

"When is the training weekend?" I heard Sebastian ask.

"We're probably going to have to run three or four, considering the number of people we have here, so I'll have to send out some emails and let you all know. But there is one booked for this weekend, for anyone who can't wait to get started, and they'll probably just run every weekend after that until the end of October. There's some forms at the front for people who are interested, just fill them in and hand them to me at the end of the meeting. They'll be an email about details coming round too - times and what to bring and stuff. We will be staying over night though, so make sure you can get hold of a sleeping bag as the accommodation is pretty basic there. And it's an early start on Saturday, so don't go painting the town red on Friday night!"

"Up for it?" René asked me.

"Yeah, I think so," I said brightly. "Be great if we can get on the first weekend, before our work load starts."

"Anyway, guys, I'm going to let Nick take over now to chat a bit about what we do on Tuesday nights, for people who can already morph."

Peter took his seat, and was replaced by Nick, whom Chloe had found attractive. Being a guy, I wouldn't know, but I suppose he did remind me of a younger version of Brad Pitt. He stood up and introduced himself - I was never going to remember all these names! - and told us about Tuesday nights.

"Basically," he was saying in his lazy, drawling voice, "once you've passed the test and got your license, you can pretty much morph whenever and whatever you want. A lot of people go home and try out morphing their pets or whatever, and this is all great, but sometimes it's fun to do it with other people. You can get more morphs that way, and learn from other people. So on Tuesday nights, same time as now, we can meet up and morph together. Sometimes it's one we've all got already, like a dog, and we go mess about for a few hours on the common. Other times we might arrange a trip to a acquire a certain new animal - which is how most of us get some of our more unusual morphs. A lot of zoos, shelters and even pet shops let people acquire their animals for a couple of quid."

"Or we just sneak in!" laughed the committee member named Danni.

"Yeah, there is that! I got a fox morph that way once!" Nick grinned. "Just don't get caught by the police - or morph before you do - or you'll get a fine! Anyway, like I said, sometimes we go out for a bit of fun morphing, other times we go acquire animals. It's really casual, just depending on who turns up and what people want to do. Usually, the first few Tuesdays of term are for acquiring animals, so everyone has something better than cats and dogs, and then after Christmas, we tend to just go for morphing. There's the Lake a few miles from here where a lot of people morph fish and dolphins, which is good fun. I think we're going there next Tuesday, actually, for anyone who's interested. There's often a really good atmosphere there because there's so many morphers around. Or we might just go owls and have a bit of a lazy flight over the city. A few of us went out last week to the fields the other side of the motorway and morphed horses - that was a laugh. Occasionally we meet up on Friday afternoons to go flying, as the thermals are better for it then than in the evening. Even if you don't have the same morph as everyone else, you can come along anyway, because we can all thought-speak to one another."

Nick paused and took a swig of water from his water bottle. "We usually go out and get drunk after that!" he laughed. "So all the more reason for coming along!"

"I've got a quick question," some guy said. "I can already morph, but I was just wondering how you meet when you go out for a morph, not an acquisition? Do you all come on the bus, get changed, morph, come back, get changed and go home? Or morph at home and meet in morph somewhere else?"

"Depends what we're doing," Nick replied. "If it's something like dolphins, then we meet up beforehand and get the minibus down to the lake and get changed there. Although again, someone might prefer to morph at home and meet us there. If we're doing birds, we usually morph at home and meet in morph. People do different things according to what morphs they have and if they are really confident at doing it alone."

"This is gonna be so wicked!" squealed René. "I can't wait!"

Nick eventually passed us over to Jane, who talked to us for a while about costs and prices of things. It was fairly expensive - three hundred pounds for the training weekend and your first morph, plus the thirty quid membership fee. But after that you got a lot of stuff for free, like if you went to a zoo which allowed acquisitions, they would pay for it. Simon then took over and talked bit about the upcoming Estrinology tournaments, and how they would be holding try-outs for experienced morphers later in the month. But I found all that difficult to take in. I was going to become a morpher! A person who could transform into animals, with the help of alien technology! An Animorph, as the traditional term was! I couldn't wait.


	5. Chapter 5: The Morphing Team

**Chapter 5**

Eventually, Lucy announced it was time for a short break and a short film. I went down with Sebastian to pick up some forms for ourselves and the others to fill in. It seemed like a dozen. Membership forms, NMA membership, training weekend forms, insurance details and a competition tryout application for Chloe. I noticed a few people had peeled off their tee-shirts and were now demonstrating some of their morphs to the first years.

"That's so weird!" cried one girl, as Peter's face bulged out into the muzzle of a dog. "Oh my god, he's got a bloody tail as well now!"

"Ok, guys, if you could all take your seats again" called Lucy after a couple of minutes. I put my cheque into the box marked 'new members' and we took my seat with René and the others.

"I can't wait to start morphing," René said enthusiastically, glancing up at the overhead video projection that was playing above the lecturer's desk. It showed various home videos of club members at training weekends, doing their first morphs, and going out flying as a big group once they'd all got their licence, all set to a really cool rock soundtrack.

"It looks amazing," I agreed. "I still think I'll enjoy flying the most."

"Flying's great, but being a cat is pretty good too," Chloe said, watching the screen. "So is being a dolphin - that's such good fun!"

"Better be worth it," muttered Julia from behind us. "My mum's not going to be pleased. She thinks it's too dangerous and wanted me to do a 'nice' sport - like tennis."

"Julia - you're at university!" I said. "You can do whatever you want now she's off your back."

"I guess," she said, but she still looked concerned.

"She sounds just like that Penny girl," René muttered. "Do ballet instead. Yuck."

"OK, guys!" said Lucy from the front of the hall and addressing us all. "We've arranged a little performance for everyone here so that anyone who's never morphed before can see what it's all about. Our Female Estrinology Team are going to perform their new routine. They're hoping to compete in the regional level championships in a few weeks time and are in the process of perfecting their routine. They've all been morphing for quite a while now, and have had a great deal of practice, so don't worry if any of you think that morphing is too beyond you after watching this!" She switched off the video and took a seat at the front of rows of seats with the other club committee members.

The doors at the side of the lecture theatre opened and in walked four girls who made their way to the front of the hall. One of them put a CD in the hi-fi and pressed 'play'. For a few seconds, there was silence as we all watched the girls formed a line in front of us, their backs facing us. They were all dressed in matching morphing outfits - a set of striking purple and black velour leotards with 'Westwood University Estrinology Team' printed up the side of their right legs.

"Cool suits," murmured René. "All I have is a tacky pair of cycling shorts."

"Go to that Falcon place then," I said.

The girls took a dance-style pose, hands out behind them, fingers outstretched, eyes looking towards the ceiling. Suddenly, a powerful RnB song started playing from the hi-fi. The girls launched into an amazing dance routine - spinning round to face the audience, arms extended in front of them, performing a variety of complicated street-style movements in perfect unison, movements that even Destiny's Child would be proud of. As they danced, they began to morph. But the morphing wasn't erratic and uncontrolled like many of the morphs I'd watched on TV, these morphs were perfectly timed, perfectly smooth and beautiful to watch. The girls were in complete control of their morphs, just like they were of their movements. The first thing I noticed to change was the growth of their fur. Soft, glossy fur became to grow over their bodies, starting from their toes and working their way up to their faces, all at the same time as one another's, until their whole bodes were covered. Two of the girls had grown thick, white fur, contrasting with the other two who grow black fur.

The song became a little slower, and a little sexier, and the girls spun round to face the wall and performed a series of sinuous, silky movements in time to the beat - whilst slowly and elegantly growing long, supple tails, which they waved in time to the music. The music sped up again, and the girl spun round again to face us, performing a series of high kicks and semi-gymnastic endeavours, which looked all the more incredible with their tails and their fur. As they danced, their faces changed. Their eyes became large and slanted, noses become small and wet, ears sliding up the side of their heads and formed larger, triangular ears. Whiskers grew from their faces as they grinned cheekily at the audience - they were becoming cats!

"That looks amazingly cool," whispered René.

"I know," I said, my mouth hanging open at the amazing display.

Just then, the girls performed a sequence I don't think I'll ever forget. They had taken a few steps back and were now dancing near the wall, leaving a couple of meters' space between them and the first row of chairs. They put their hands in the air like gymnasts, then took a each too a couple of fast steps and propelled themselves into a no-arms cartwheel, landing facing the wall. They then kicked off from their bent knees, performing a backwards somersault, just as the music reached its most powerful peak yet. As they flipped through the air, they accelerated the morph - so that by the time they landed back on the ground, they were fully cat!

"Oh. My. God." René muttered, he eyes transfixed at the cat-girls. "I can't even do that as a human!"

The cats were now dancing again, now fully morphed. They stepped forward gracefully, front legs forward then front legs back, arching their backs, waving their tails. It looked strange, beautiful and astonishing, all at the same time - four cats, two black and two white, performing this awe-inspiring dance routine. Not only had the girls taken complete control of the actual morphing process, but they'd got control of the cat's mind as if it were their own.

As the song began to come to an end, the girls began to demorph as they danced. They grew slowly and gracefully as the song played softer and quieter verses, gradually becoming more and more upright. Fingers and toes replaced paws, their tails were slowly sucked back into their bodies. Yet they were controlling even the bone and muscle changes to their bodies as well as the obvious processes, because they were slipping into supple ballet movements - high leg movements, back-bends and the splits. At last, the song began to end, and the girls stood and faced us, forming a striking pose. They were almost entirely human, save for the fur that still covered their bodies. At last, that began to dissolve, but, again in an artful and aesthetically pleasing manner. The fur appeared to 'ripple' over their bodies, stripes of fur appearing and disappearing like a weird Mexican wave. The song faded out, and the girls completed the demorph, the last traces of fur disappearing from their body.

A round of applause echoed around the room, all one-hundred and fifty or so of the new members, existing members and the committee clapping widely. The girls smiled and stood up straight, taking their seats with the rest of us.

Lucy got up and grinned at us, seeing our astonished faces.

"Wasn't that amazing?" she cried, motioning for the applause to die down. "Thank you _so _much to Danielle, Siobhan, Layla and Emma for that fantastic routine! And good luck with the championships - no way you're not going to win if you guys carry on like that! And anyone who's morphed before - or even if you haven't! - don't forget to try out for our teams this year! We've got spaces available for individual Estreen performers, males' mixed animal and multiple animal pairs! Plus, we're also planning to arrange a trip to see Elaine Moore at the National Morphing Tournaments in February - she used to be a student here at Westwood and she's fantastic!"

"I've seen Elaine Moore on TV!" René said. "She got the bronze last year for her swan morph to Robbie Williams's Angels - I think that's what got me interested in morphing."

"So anyone who hasn't, make sure you sign up if you're interested," Lucy continued. "That's it for now - any questions about anything we haven't covered, come and speak to one of us afterwards or send us an email. New guys - see you all at one of the training weekends! Old members - dolphins at the Lake on Tuesday, normal time. And everyone - meet up at the bar in half an hour so we can all get to know each other!"

"Going on the training weekend?" I asked René.

"Definitely!" she grinned.


	6. Chapter 6: Packing

**Chapter Six**

As the week progressed, our lessons became more complicated, and we were given more and more work to do. Soon, my diary was as full as a London business man's, yet I was determined to keep the upcoming weekend free. Because last night, during my regular periods of time wasting and procrastination (a common pastime of many students), I had decided to log on to the net and check my emails. And there, first message of the inbox, was an email from the morphing club named 'Upcoming Training Weekends'. I had eagerly opened the message, and was presented with a list of names of those where were to be coming on one of the four upcoming weekends. I, along with René, Julia and Sebastian, would be on the first weekend of term. This very weekend. Just a few days from now. I couldn't wait.

Needless to say, I was more than distracted during lecture time. Instead of making notes on the topics, I was doodling mindlessly in the margins. Little scribbles of cats, dogs, and humans in strange, half-morphed poses. Chloe, who had taken to sitting next to me in class, was watching me with interest on this particular Thursday afternoon.

"The first few morphs are really ugly," she whispered to me, smirking at my drawings. "They'll look nothing like that. That is what you see when Estreens morph. Not you newbies."

"Shut up, Chloe," I said amicably. "I'm just daydreaming, that's all. It's ok for you, you've done it before. You know what it's like. I can but only imagine."

"Yeah, well, just to worn you, you'll probably get a paw growing out your arse and a tail from of your nose the first time," she giggled. She paused as she scribbled down a few key terms which the lecturer was trying to emphasise to her class of glass-eyed students.

"As long as I morph, I don't care how I do it," I said. "Who gives a damn if look like some mutant monster, so long as I get to be a dog for a few hours?"

"You will, because they make you do it in front of a mirror. You'll puke before you start growing fur. So will everyone watching you. You're doing it this weekend, right?"

"Yeah, going up on Saturday morning. Seven AM, we've gotta meet. Lovely."

"Seven AM," breathed Chloe. "God, I'd totally forgotten that time even existed. Don't think I've been up before ten at all this week."

"Lazy cow," I smiled.

"So does that mean you can't make the pub crawl on Friday night?"

"Yeah right. Think I'll have to give that a miss this week."

"Sebbie's going," she continued.

"Sebastian will feel like crap the next day then, whilst I shall be bright eyed and bushy tailed. Hopefully literally."

I struggled through Friday's lectures with very little enthusiasm; most of my motivation was being saved for the morphing on Sunday morning. I was beginning to feel a little nervous now, my heart pumping like mad every time I thought about it, and the reading I was supposed to be getting on with this evening wasn't progressing too well. I was glad that René bounced into my room on Friday night, giving me an excuse at last to throw down my highlighters and ignore the thing for the rest of the weekend.

"Oh my god!" she squealed wildly. "We're gonna morph! Gonna morph! I can't wait, can you wait? I certainly can't wait!"

She said all of this in a single breath.

I grinned at her. She was carrying a large, blue sports bag over one shoulder, which she threw down on my bed. "You alright? You seem very quiet? Not thinking about backing out, are you?"

"No, course not!" I replied. "I'm just nervous, that's all. Every time I think about it, my heart starts leaping out of my ribcage. John, and that other guy, Buster, or whatever his real name is, were questioning me about in the common room earlier. I've never felt so many butterflies in my stomach. There must be a whole eco-system in there."

"Well, you can piss about getting nervous," René laughed, "but I've been packing. The email told us to bring tight clothes to morph in, right? I've been going through my wardrobe and all my mate's wardrobes, trying to get some stuff together." She pulled out a bright blue pair of cycling shorts and a tight black aerobics top from her bag.

"Very sexy. Very Versace," I said sarcastically.

"They suck, don't they? Ah well, as long as they let me morph a dog without flashing my humps to the instructors, they'll do. What are you wearing?"

"Dunno, not started packing yet."

"How can you have not started packing?" she asked, amazed. "I started packing as soon as I got back from lectures, and I'm not even one of those girls who needs like a million hairbrushes and seven hundred pairs of designer jeans for a night away."

"I'll pack, don't worry!" I sighed. "I was just nervous, and tried to get on with some reading to take my mind off it."

René stared at my text book, which was lying open at the beginning of chapter one. The first five lines were highlighted.

"Looks more like the weekend's been taking your mind off the reading," she smirked. "Come on, you might as well give up on this." She slammed my text book shut, and pulled open my wardrobe.

"Yeah, no need to ask if you can go rooting through all my stuff," I said dryly. "Just go straight on in."

René ignored me and started pulling out various tee-shirts and sportswear. "How many torn, brown blazers do you have?" she asked pulling out my vintage jackets. "And a million pairs of baggy jeans?"

"René, that's just my look, ok? I'm not really into tight lyrca stuff. Except maybe skinny suits, but I don't think they count. Since when did you become Ms. Vogue, anyway?"

"I'm not," she said, "that's why I'm commenting. "Who's that blonde girl down the corridor? Kirsty? She told me yesterday she owns fourteen black tee-shirts. Fourteen? What would anyone want with that many almost identical tee-shirts, for goodness sake?"

"I have no idea," I said, opening my chest of draws and pulling out the tight top and trouser-leggings I wear for jogging. "Think these will do?"

"Very unsexy, but not as bad as anything I'll be wearing," she said. "Get them in packed then. What else did the email say to bring?"

She rummaged through her bag, tossing shirts and shoes onto the floor, before eventually pulling out a scrappy piece of paper.

"Here we are," she said. "Stuff. To. Bring. Water bottle - they'll be no place to get drinks over night. Sleeping bag - damn, I need to pack mine. Um, warm clothes, done. Passport, driving licence or other form of identification. Yup, got that. Student ID? Think so, it's somewhere around."

I left her to sort her stuff out and checked my own printed email. It was basically saying to dress like you were going for a hike in the countryside, crossed with a gymnastics lesson. Plenty of warm clothing, but make sure you have tight stuff for Sunday. I filled my rucksack with everything I needed, then followed René into the kitchen for some supper. There were a couple of other students cooking meals with various levels of expertise.

"Doing your animal thing tomorrow?" asked John, as I pulled out a still-dirty saucepan from the kitchen sink and started to make myself some pasta. I practically live on pasta nowadays.

"Yeah, god help me," I laughed. "I'm well nervous now, but excited too."

"What are you going to morph?" asked a girl called Natalie. I hadn't talked to her much, but she seemed nice. She hung around with Penny and also played the piano.

"Well, they pick our first one for us, but it's usually something simple, like a cat or a dog."

"How do you define whether an animal is simple to morph or not?" asked another girl who was eating baked beans straight from the tin. "Either you morph it, or you don't right? It's not like you have to work out some maths formula or anything, is it?"

"No, but some animals are a lot more like humans than others, so the changes aren't as severe," René answered. "Like, a dog is pretty similar to a person - they've both got two eyes, four limbs, a mouth and all that. But a spider or an insect would be really different. There's like, nothing left that even remotely human."

"That sounds gross," said the baked-bean girl. "Turning into a spider. Why would anyone want to do that, anyway? Morphing bugs?"

I shrugged. "Adrenaline rush, maybe? The challenge?"

"The ability to spy on girls in the shower?" laughed John.

René threw a spoon at him. "Don't be such a perv!" she snapped.

John and some of the other guys carried on laughing. René rolled her eyes.

"Nat, see if you can get these Neanderthals to evolve, before the place turns into a zoo," she said, rolling her eyes. "I'm off to bed, Alex. Early start."

She turned and walked out of the room, but paused before she shut the door.

"Next time you'll see me, I'll be able to turn into a lion, so you blokes had better watch out," she smirked.

"That a promise?" asked John, licking his lips.


End file.
